Mind Over Matter
by Joel182
Summary: Nick Nemeth is a thirty six year old with a mortal fear of coming out. He meets Dean - an out-in-the-open, carefree homosexual. Sparks fly, but where there is smoke, there is fire. SLASH WARNING! Pairing: DolphxDean
1. Don't Drink And Drive

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING BUT THE PLOT. ALL NAMES BELONG TO VINCE MCMAHON AND WWE.**

 **Enjoy :)**

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"Alright pal"

The husky voice rose him from his catatonic state by forcing him to commit an act he seemed incapable of previously – blinking.

"One Gin and Tonic." The glass scraped against the wood bar top, as it moved closer into his line of sight.

Striking blue eyes glistened against the clear liquid set slightly ahead of his face. He felt the heaviness of his arm as it lifted to cup frail fingertips longingly around the circumference of the condensed beverage. "Thank you" Barely limped from his lips, before the cold drink encapsulated them in its dry hold.

A long sigh came from the bartender as his dark gaze drifted over to his left. Six empty glasses sat huddled together like a basketball team on time out. The sight made the bartender wince a bit in disapproval, before focusing his gaze on the man seated ahead of him. He watched as the platinum blond nursed the liquor in his grasp – staring into it with an indescribable sadness behind his eyes – before pointedly drinking away whatever wanted to surface as part of his expression.

The bartender took another deep breath, before leaning in closer to the blonde – forearm planted squarely on the surface of the bar top for support.

"Hey, buddy." He called gently – a far cry from his robust and stocky build. The man barely tilted his chin upwards, bringing mostly the blue of his eyes into view. "You got a ride home?"

At first, nothing but blankness looked back at the concerned bartender, only to be snuffed out by a snort. "Home" The blonde parroted with a weak smile strewn across his face. "I don't have one."

The bartender stared silently for a moment – allowing the man to drink back another mouthful of liquor to wash away the heaviness behind his words – and spoke again once the glass hit the counter top.

"You got work tomorrow though, right?" The blonde nodded sloppily – losing his equilibrium for a moment upon doing so. "It ain't no good drinking like this when work's tomorrow."

The crippled smile returned as a slow chuckle fled from his lips – kissing the rim of the nearby Gin & Tonic. "I just need fix my mind" His smile faltered a bit as his eyes began to well up with tears. "Cause my heart's beyond repair nowadays."

Low sobs soon escaped the man as he put the drink aside in favor of resting his face on his forearm. The bartender stared at him from behind thought-filled eyes. The bar was located in the downtown districts, so drunks like this blonde were as regular as the furniture. However, what was different was the way the blonde spoke. He sounded like a man free-falling from the edge of the proverbial cliff.

"Only one thing makes a guy cry like that" The bartender spoke kindly as he busied himself with wiping down the now wet counter top. "What did love do to you?"

The sobbing slowed as the blonde rose his head to look at the bartender. The larger man was standing, arms-crossed, with his gaze set directly on him. Worried about how sloppy he looked, the blonde quickly rubbed his face with the short sleeve of his blue polo shirt – staining it with God knows what – before dragging back loose snot down the back of his throat, and throwing back another shot of liquor.

"My girlfriend's cheating on me." The blonde spoke softly into his drink – downing another gulp, before placing the now empty glass heavily onto the counter top. "When I first met her, it was like" Blue eyes searched the bartender's face for the word, "it was like a spark. Instant chemistry." His weak smile returned once more. "Love at first sight."

"Sounds nice." The bartender rested his back against the clearer parts of the shelving. "What makes you think she's cheating?"

The question quickly stripped the blonde of his poorly constructed smile – dropping on his face a look of abysmal rejection and hurt. "Our relationship has to stay a secret, and because of that, people will come up to her looking for a date. And as much as I want to, I can't just go shouting 'She's mine!' or else she and I could lose our dream jobs." A stray thumb ran idly up and down the length of the choppy glass. "I just sit back and watch her talk to perfect strangers, smiling with the smile I fell for." He scoffed lightly, "Then I wait at home, hoping at the end of it all she'll still come back to me. And she does, and I get so stupidly happy that I don't notice the difference in her scent, or the marks on her body."

A heavy sigh caved from the bowels of the bartender. His large hand came up to the back of his head – scratching an imaginary itch on the back of his neck. "Sounds like a girl who ain't looking for commitment." The blonde scoffed weakly. "Look," The bartender rested his hand in his pants pocket. "Love makes people stupid to the point where they can't tell what's love and what's dependency. That's why, as hard as it may seem, you gotta be willing to acknowledge the red flags, and take the next necessary step."

The blonde looked to the bartender with a faint hint of desperation stuck behind his baby blues. "I can't leave her." His voice broke, "I love her so damn much… and it's so fucking painful, but I know I'll die if she's gone."

The larger man heaved a weighty breath. His eyes darkening the longer he looked at the pitiful blonde. "It seems that way, but think about this" His open palm sat away from his side as if to motion to the pile of empty glasses. "If she is cheating on you, and you forgive her because you can't let her go, then every day you look at her from that point on, you'll be reminded that there was a time in your life when she thought you were inadequate." The word visibly struck a harsh cord with the blonde, as his blue eyes popped open widely in reaction to the scenario. "Think about that without the Gin and Tonic. And afterwards, if you still want to be with her, then it's love and that's the kind of shit it'll bring ya."

Slowly, the blonde's expression shifted from shock to understanding, as he brought his head into a nod once he committed to the advice. "Thanks." He spoke in a whisper.

"Don't mention it." The bartender replied dryly, as he began to pack away the empty glasses. "But still, do you have a ride home?" The blonde nervously shook his head. "Alright. Where do you live."

"Apartment on 5th Street." He spoke unenthusiastically, "Little dump by the name of The Cove."

"Ah, I know that place." The bartender responded with a rough tone, "A good friend of mine goes past there. I can hook you up with a ride if you want."

"Um" The blonde spoke unsure of how to handle the offer. "T-That's okay, I'll just—"

"Don't mention it." Cut in coldly, stopping the blonde halfway through his sentence. "Look, he's right over there." The blonde followed where the bartender was pointing – finding his weary eyes on the seat behind him. In its cushiony hold sat a chestnut blonde, dressed in an 80s leather jacket set over a plain red T-Shirt, boot-cut Levi jeans, and tattered sneakers. "Dean!" The bartender called – successfully breaking the alarm that had gone off inside the blonde's head. "Yo Dean! Wake up!" The larger man barked loudly. When the lonesome Dean did not revive to the yelling, the bartender quickly tossed his towel at him. The dirty fabric hit Dean on the side of the face, and the feeling of harsh cleaners on his skin served to awaken the sleeping man.

"You fucker." He spat viciously while flinging the cloth to the ground. A harsh glare showed itself to the light of the bar, with blue eyes set beneath heavy lids – giving the dirty-blonde a droopy look. "I was in the middle of fucking Brad Pitt."

The platinum drunk sat at the bar immediately went red-faced to the statement gracing his ears. His wide blue eyes held nothing save shock in their gelatinous grip – an expression the sighing bartender easily deciphered upon seeing it.

"Did he—" The blonde started as he looked at the bartender.

"Yeah." The larger man responded.

"I-Is he—"

The larger man sighed exasperatedly. "Yeah." He looked sternly back at the stunned blonde. "Dean's gay but—"

"You don't have to worry about anything, Platinum Man." Dean interrupted crassly, bringing all eyes to him – finding that at some point the man had took to standing. "I don't do pitiful guys like you." The blonde flashed a glare to Dean, whose dead-pan expression failed to emit any reaction. "Are we going or not?"

The blonde looked on in shock, as his mind wrestled with how steady his body was to handle a fist fight – especially considering that he had seven Gin and Tonics coursing through his blood stream. Concluding the battle lost before it even began, the blonde sighed to his own predicament, before standing and setting to pay the bartender.

"How much do I owe?" He asked absentmindedly as he fumbled through the cash in his wallet.

"$42.50"

"Jeezsus!" Dean exclaimed as he walked up to the bar. The blonde next to him glared at him with a permanent frown. "You're too fucking expensive, you know that?" His eyes – now wild with a sort of brattish emotion – looked to the man standing beside him. "Don't pay this robber a cent. Liquor is basically water, and water is technically still free." Just as quickly, Dean returned his eyes to the bartender who had rolled his eyes as he begun to turn his own attention to packing the shelves. "Just put this shit on my tab."

"Guys who don't drink don't have a tab, Dean." The bartender spoke matter-of-factly. "Just take this kid home."

"Kid?" The blonde retorted with a small chuckle. "I'm flattered, but I'm the result of parents who got busy back in 1980, so…" He trailed, finding his eyes drawn to Dean – now stricken mute by the sight of Dean's intense stare.

"So you're what, 35…36?" The blonde nodded shortly in response. "So you're old." The word stopped the blonde dead in his tracks. His body tensed to retort, only to have Dean whisking his gaze away force back down any feeling of action he once had. "I guess you should be worried then." He spoke with a cheeky grin planted across his face. The sight did more than infuriate the platinum haired drinker. It also made him feel light-headed – almost as if he was entranced by the expression, and the danger behind Dean's words. "Let's get going. I've got work in the morning."

Without thought of the strangeness of the situation, the fact that in a few short minutes Dean had managed to piss him off twice, or even the fact that he had left the bartender with nothing for the drinks, the blonde willingly trailed behind Dean – small sparks of excitement flying through him as both men left the bar.


	2. Smiley Face

The ring is the hottest place you will ever be, was what all wrestlers said as they lifted three times their weight, or marveled at their chiseled physiques after doing 100 reps. Nick had known it once upon a time, and regretted every day the fact that he never took the time to really appreciate it. Now, three years since being forced to retire, Nick found himself working at a training facility for the company that had had enough of him. The very same company, he thought, that once held him on the shoulders, looked him dead in the eye and said "You _are_ that damn good".

Nick never liked to think about the past, as doing so made him angry out of pure hatred. And that was unfair to the folks training to become a part of that very company, and toxic to him and his relationship. Or what he could call relationship…but thinking about it now, Nick realized painfully that it could never be truly considered one. Firstly, he and his 'lover' never went out together, never introduced each other to each other's family/friends, and only saw each other at Nick's apartment at night. Secondly, Nick pondered as his latest client vigorously ate through his one handed push-ups, his 'lover' was one Mike Mizanin. Known playboy. Ego the size of Texas. And, most importantly, a guy. A guy who wrestles. On TV. In front of millions. For this, secrecy had become the core of his relationship with Mike, with coming out not being an option. Nick felt ill simply thinking about it. The repercussions should he ever let slip to anyone that he was gay. He feared them. He feared Mike would losing the job he worked so hard for, and him losing his trainer role that served as his only line of attachment to his once beloved WWE. And mostly he feared coming out because it meant that, Mike would hate him for the rest of his life.

This was his constant train of thought every day since he was nine. Come out and the world will hate you. Come out and you will lose everything. Come out and you will die. Fear ruled Nick, and sealed his sexuality in a dark box buried under the rubbish of what the world expected, and what Mike was willing to love. Then came Dean, and how openly he spoke about being gay, and the once ruling thoughts slowly began to melt away.

"You look damn happy for a man who stunk of liquor and breath mints." Nick snapped from his thoughts, and faced the reality of his trainee looking up at him from the floor – having chosen to lie back on it. "That little smile of yours makes me wanna cum in your ass."

Nick shirked to the idea. He was used to these comments from this brunette, but was painfully aware of people like Randy Orton. People like Randy Orton had a curious side that just wanted to do something once for fun, and then have it forgotten about entirely and immediately. People like Randy Orton where the kind of people Nick hated the most. They were cold, vicious, and in most cases, the most abusive. The latter stayed Nick from speaking rashly or acting brashly whenever Randy got into one of his moods. That, and the fact that Randy had a history of violence that activated whenever the brunette felt his ego bruise.

"Do twenty bicep curls, a rep of lounges, and then five minutes on the treadmill." Nick spoke dismissively as he began to jot down notes on Randy's tracking form.

"Can I break first?"

Nick stared at the younger man, as he pondered the request. His eyes shifted to the watch on his hand, before looking back at Randy's piercing gaze. "Sure. Can't hurt."

Randy grinned wickedly, before standing to his feet – pressing himself a mere inch from Nick. Nick stood like a deer in headlights as he panicked over what he needed to do to escape this scenario without facing Orton's wrath. The brunette chuckled darkly as he leaned in closer to the side of Nick's neck – drawing in a loud breath through his nostrils as he did. "You smell different" He spoke directly into Nick's ear – instantly startling him. "Like motoroil and shitty cigarettes." The older man drew in another breath – shorter than the last. "This isn't Mike's scent."

The comment instantly enraged Nick. Without care or thought of the consequences, Nick instantly shoved Randy away – nearly pushing him into some nearby weights. "Just shut up and take a break!"

Conceding defeat, Randy threw his hands up in the air, before turning away and heading for the door. Nick stood his ground for a moment – allowing himself to break away from the painful hurt in his chest – before deciding that he was hungry. He glanced at his watch again, this time smiling giddily to the time. /It's his lunch time/ He thought as he quickly brought his phone to light, and rapidly hit speed dial.

The phone rang, but not for long. It got to three, and then was immediately cut off. Nick tried the number again – this time choosing to manually dial it in – but was met with a far worse fate of getting no rings and a voicemail that had not yet been set up. His mood quickly dampened, and soon the blonde decided to put the phone away after sending his beloved a message reading: _On a break. Call me when you can. I'll buy your favorite :)_ _._ Nick re-read the message after sending it, only to feel an echoing hollowness form in the core of his being. /Pitiful/ He thought, only to quickly shake the word from his head. However, the action did little to curb his excellent memory, as no sooner did he think the word, did Dean's voice echo in his mind.

 _I don't do pitiful guys like you._

The statement rung true in Nick, but he refused to entertain it. Pitiful was a term used to describe damaged goods that were so far gone, only God could still love them. He hated the idea of being called damaged goods, yet Dean had nonchalantly labelled him as such merely a few minutes after meeting him. Once again, Nick had to pull himself away from the anger he suddenly felt and attributed to thinking about that Dean character by distracting himself with the memory of being hungry. His phone sounded off in his hand, quickly alerting him to it. His hopes rose, and died to the tune of a reply that read: _Sorry. I already ate. I'll see you tonight at your place :)._

Nick knew he should have gotten angry at the lax response. He knew he should have hated the usual 'I'll see you tonight' that always preceded the words 'at your place'. Nick knew all these things, but as he headed out to find food, his bright smile denoted that the only thing that stuck was the sight of a smiley face – a code he and Mike used in place of the words 'I love you'.


	3. Ham, Lettuce, and Cheese

Dieting was a term Nick had once been synonymous with. All those years of crafting his body into that of a wrestling legend, and making his skills much the same were partially due to his strict diet. It was unique in that it contained mostly fruit and vegetables, light deli meats, and limited dairy, but ever since its inception, Nick stuck to his diet without fail. Many of his coworkers came to him for advice regarding dieting, nutrition, and proper work out routines. It wasn't long after losing a career match on the request of his 'boyfriend' Mike, did Nick find himself back in the saddle of WWE, but riding a different kind of horse. Now he trained the newbies, and often ended up with set wrestlers (clients). This year, he was strapped with Mr. Made-For-Wrestling, third-generation future superstar, Randy Orton.

Having Randy Orton working exclusively with him was a happier point in Nick's life. He felt important seeing that the company was entrusting their diamond in the rough to him, but being attracted to Randy's confidence, Nick found himself getting the best of both worlds. Then Randy Orton beat a co-worker to near-death, and Nick realized how little his company thought of him, and how much he no longer felt anything for Randy. Barely a month into their union, Randy began jabbing at Nick, trying to draw out a reaction, however being with Mike for close to four years now, Nick had inadvertently picked up the ability to sniff out when someone was merely curious. When this relationship started, Mike was merely curious. He had watched Nick wrestle in his spare time one night, and got turned on. He just wanted to see what would happen if he and Nick slept together. Almost four years later, and Nick still felt as though the man he dearly loved was still in his 'trying to see' phase.

"The turkey sandwiches here suck ass." Nick immediately turned to his left – eyes wide with shock -as he found Dean standing next to him, boorishly staring at the deli sandwiches. "Ham is better."

"You!" Nick bellowed, before quickly catching himself, "W-What are you doing here?" He whispered harshly.

"I work here." Dean laxly pointed to a silver name badge with the words _Hi I'm Dean_ written on it. Nick strangely felt like laughing. "And why are you whispering?"

"I'm not!" Nick replied with his face quickly turning red, "And what do you mean you work here?"

"I mean I work here" Dean spoke with his eyes now focused on the container he was ripping open.

"What are you doing?" Nick asked with his head swiveling around to ensure no eyes were on them. Dean looked at him with light confusion mixed in with his deadpan gaze. "That's stealing." Nick stressed.

"They can take it outta my paycheck." The crass blonde spoke as he took a large bite out of the ham sandwich. "Mmmmhmmm." He chimed as he visibly chewed the large serving of bread, cheese, ham and lettuce. "Amazing" He spoke, still chewing. "Try some"

Nick scowled at the sandwich being handed to him. "No thanks." He turned back to his choices, and reached towards the turkey sandwich. His hand stopped on its own, as his eyes glanced over to find Dean eating away at his ham sandwich – visibly loving every bite. A sigh escaped Nick's lips, as he decided on ham.

"Good choice, Platinum Man." Dean spoke as he sucked the crumbs off his fingers.

"My name is Nick." Dean stared at him with his index finger still in his mouth. "Nick Nemeth." A popping sound followed Dean's finger leaving his mouth. Nick sighed. "Dolph Ziggler?"

"Nope." Dean spoke pointedly, before helping himself to another sandwich. Nick frowned angrily at him. "What?"

Nick stared at the blonde in disbelief, before suddenly hearing his phone go off in his pocket. The noise had him fumbling crazily. The ham sandwich fell from his grasp as he took the phone into his hands. Dean stared at the forgotten food lying on the cold grocery store floor, before looking to the back of Nick's head – eyes getting darker as if charcoal crackled beneath his blue irises.

"Right now?" Nick spoke frantically. "N-No, I'm not busy at all." Dean watched the man clutch the phone to his ear as if holding onto it for dear life. "Yeah…love you."

The call ended before the word 'love' left his mouth, but he still felt like saying it. And subsequently hearing it. Regardless, Nick forced the creeping sadness in favor for being thankful Mike had taken the time to call him back and move their date up closer. /Date/ Nick thought as he scoffed painfully at the thought. /More like a meeting/.

"You're a crybaby, you know that?" To the sound of Dean's voice, Nick instantly came to – finding that at some point Dean had walked to stand in front of him, and was now staring intently at his face.

"I'm n—" Got cut off instantly by the flow of tears that poured unaltered out of his eyes. Immediately following the first few drops, Nick quickly rubbed his eyes and face – turning away hurriedly.

"Don't" Dean quickly grabbed his arm, stopping the platinum blonde, and forcing him to focus sky blue eyes on his. Dean wordlessly stared at Nick's face – tracing it as if to save it for memory, and noting the quiver in his lips, and the wetness of his eyelashes as he tried to hold back the tears. "Don't go back to him."

A heavy frown began craving into his forehead, "What are you talking about?" He spat viciously as he yanked himself from Dean's touch, "Just leave me alone, you creep!"

Dean watched stone faced as Nick stormed off – carrying nothing he came for – and looked down at the fallen sandwich. A sly grin slipped over his face, as the word interesting came to mind.


	4. What Hurts The Most

Nick had escaped within an inch of his life, and more importantly, his chastity. During the break wherein he ran into Dean, and then ran away from Dean, Randy Orton had found himself ticked off, and with IED in full swing, grabbed Nick up and tried to force himself onto the older man. Having been caught off guard, Nick at first failed to truly resist, but when he recalled that Mike was expecting him, he found the where with it all to kick Orton square in the balls. The consequences of his actions mattered not in that moment where fight or flight was in high gear, but as he stood in the elevator of his apartment, Nick could not help but feel the overwhelming pressure of having now put his job and livelihood at stake.

/But I wasn't going to let him touch me/ He spoke to himself in an effort to calm his nerves. He was more panicked over the fact that he came close to cheating on Mike, all because Randy had an episode. Having come so close to such an unforgiveable act of betrayal put in Nick a reassurance that he really did love Mike, no matter what Dean said.

/Wait!/ He thought as his widened eyes stared at the elevator door. /Why the hell am I thinking about him?/ Was the only question he did not have a true answer for. He blamed his drunken stupor that had him riding home on the back of a motorbike, clutching to a strange and rude man. He blamed Dean's sudden influence on what kind of sandwich he now liked to eat. And at the end of that blame, Nick realized that the elevator had long since opened, and he was still no closer to vanquishing the thought of Dean, Dean's scruffiness that seemed somewhat endearing, Dean's droopy eyes, Dean's dimpled smile, Dean…Dean…Dean.

For effect, and hopes, Nick knocked his head into the wall outside the now closing elevator doors in an effort to clear his head. He loved Mike. Just the thought of the man made him feel warm and fuzzy, but the more he force-fed his heart this knowledge, the more the bartender's words came into mind. And then there was Dean and his 'don't go back to him' nonsense. Nick felt sick. Randy Orton attacking him, Dean's weird ability to sniff out the gayness he tried to bury within himself, the offered ham sandwich he should have eaten to ward off his stomachache, Mike's smiley face…all thoughts that sent his emotions on a roller coaster that landed him nowhere closer to feeling any better.

/Get a grip!/ He barked internally, as he straightened his stance, and marched towards his apartment. As he came upon the door, Nick felt nervous – even more so than his first night with Mike. He looked at the doorknob, hoping it would give him a foothold to stand upon, however the brass knob simply stared back in silence. Nick sighed in defeat and began to open the door. For a short moment, a warmth fell on his arm, and his body instinctively turned around expecting –/What am I doing?/ His mind whipped his body into shape, and immediately the door opened.

"Hey Dolph" Mike called as he entered the living room.

Nick looked at the brunette. Tall, well-built, sharply dressed, oozing with confidence and a smile that got him weak in the knees. This was the man he loved. No one else could compare. Not Randy, and certainly not Dean.

"Hey babe." Nick spoke as he dropped his gym bag on the floor. His arms immediately wrapped around Mike's neck, as he gently kissed the man.

Mike gave in for a short while, before pulling away from Nick. "Go take a shower." He spoke callously, stroking back Nick's curly locks, "I don't like you when you're all sweaty from work."

A streak of hurt dragged across Nick's face as he stared into Mike's eyes. Noting that the brunette was serious, Nick forced a smile on his face, and nodded to Mike's request.

Mike smiled – further breaking Nick's heart – and gave the man a hard slap on his right ass-check. "Make it quick" He spoke with his lips on Nick's ears – weakening the man's ability to keep standing "I'll be right behind you."

Nick whimpered a barely noticeable "Yes". Satisfied, Mike slipped from Nick's grasp, and headed off towards the only bedroom. With Mike out of sight – and ear – Nick turned to his forearms. He brought the right one up to his nostrils a took a deep breath in.

/Perfume/ Saddened blue eyes looked at his arm. His heart coiled in pain, as his head pounded to the agony. Everything hurt, and pain only made him want to run away. The sight of tear drops pooling on his arm quickly pulled him from his depression, and in an instant had him thinking back to Dean's observant face as the words _"You're a crybaby"_ chimed into his mind's ear.

Nick scoffed to himself as he quickly dried his tears.


	5. The French Connection

/I'm not insecure/ Nick repeated as he sat staring at the tailored leather wrapped around the steering wheel of his new Chevrolet. /I'm just visiting him on my off day./ Came to his mind as a means to convince himself that his reason for sitting in the parking lot of the Raw arena was to see his boyfriend for a few moments. Girls did it, and no one questions a girl doing this. Nick sighed as the feeling of stupidity caved over him. He had finally wrangled a day off that matched with one of Mike's lighter nights. Doing so wasn't easy, as following his kick to the balls spree on Randy, Vince had cut his off days again. However, Randy unexpectedly stood up for him, and had Vince grant him a day he was longing to have. A day he could come out in the sun and see his darling in the sun. It had cost him his dignity seeing that he had to promise to allow Randy to call him babe for the rest of the week, but sitting in the parking lot – heart pounding a mile a second, and head spinning from all the butterflies in his stomach – knowing he would get to see his beloved Mike made all the deals in the world well worth it. Even those made with a dangerous psychopath in Randy Orton.

The engine of the car gently came to a stop as Nick conjured up the strength to turn the near fifteen-hundred-pound car off. Step two was now complete. Step one was gathering the courage to drive here – uninvited – with step two being turning off the car. Step three was the attempt made to get into the arena. Step three was proving extremely difficult seeing that not only was he here uninvited, and disobeying the unspoken rule set between him and Mike regarding meeting at night; but stepping into a WWE Raw arena meant that for a few moments he would have to endure the painful memories associated with what was once his dream.

Nick knew he had to refrain from thinking on this, but there was still bitterness regarding his forced retirement. Medical issues always seemed to plague the good ones. Shawn, Daniel, Steve, Edge, and now him. Mr. Just Damn Good. Dolph Ziggler had stepped into the ring of WWE after years of blood, sweat and tears, only to go out on medical issues and politics. As the rage began to stew in him, Nick instantly dispelled it by knocking his forehead against his steering wheel. The hit did the trick, as his mind let go of his feelings for WWE, and put it right back on track with a far more troubling subject.

At the young age of nine, Nick knew he was different. Kids his age talked about girls. They didn't say nice things, but they talked a lot about the opposite sex. Nick knew he was strange when he spent the entire day once dressed as Lois Lane, and fantasizing of being recused by Superman. It would be years before he found a title for what he was, and by that time, the world had already begun to hate people like him. Afraid of losing everyone he loved, Nick forced his true self into a deep hole, and left it to die. Then Mike came along – young kid from Tough Enough, with a penchant for writing checks his ass couldn't cash. Being from Cleveland, Nick felt a connection with Mike, and found it easy to talk to someone just as ostracized as he was. Mike was sweet, kind, and treated Nick with the respect he never got from others. It would only be a matter of months before Nick's heart joined in, and feel irrevocably in love with Mike.

But gay? Mike wasn't even close to it. Nick knew it then, but still pursued from a safe distance. An opportunity presented itself the night Mike won his first WWE Championship. He was drunk, and staying with Nick as Alex had his wife over for a celebration. It was Mike who made the first move by drunkenly kissing Nick, only to keep going when the man in question did not pull back.

It would be four years since that night, and Nick felt that it was time to confirm Mike's feelings. The brunette never once said he loved him, but the smiley faces, and the little gestures made up for it. However, after four years, Nick selfishly wanted to hear it. He wanted the person he loved to say he loved him too. And being the person he loved, Nick wanted to hear it from Mike. He wanted to hear Mike say it in broad daylight, without alcohol coursing through his veins, and without the moon-kissed bed in his apartment.

With this conviction, Nick was finally able to get over step 3. Immediately, he sprung from the car and headed towards the locker rooms backstage. The first few steps into the backstage area forced a lump down his throat as he felt all those bottled feelings getting in the way. However, after closing his eyes for a moment, and then reopening them, Nick was able to focus only on his reason for coming here. Certainly he wanted to see Mike, he thought as he walked past faces he knew and those he did not recognize, but this was more about the perfume. The expensive one that had lingered on his boyfriend for far too long.

Jealously was an ugly feeling, and Nick knew it. Even worse, Mike hated jealously because he hated the idea of people trying to control him. And conforming to the jealous whims of a lover was equal to control freak in Mike's mind. Therefore, Nick often disposed of the feeling, and when it got too much to handle (as it did a few nights ago), he would head to the local bar and drown himself in the comforts of straight Gin and Tonic. This wasn't a practice he supported, but his love for Mike often drove him to these kind of things; forcing him to seek out often times destructive coping mechanisms for his hurting heart.

The locker-room he was looking for came into view and served to throw away his indulgence into his string of negative thoughts – all of which had plagued him since last night. Since Dean asked him not to go back to Mike. Nick immediately stopped in his tracks as he stood beside himself at how he had failed to keep Dean from reappearing in his mind. Motor oil and shitty cigarettes. Instantly, Nick drew his hands and arms to his face, sniffing his skin madly. He breathed a sigh of relief to find that he did not smell of either traces of Dean. As he did, he quickly gave himself a mental kick in the butt for even bothering with such stupid things. He was here for Mike smelling like a woman, and not to worry about whether or not he himself smelled like a man.

"Knock Knock" Nick spoke as he opened the door, "Surprise bab—"

A woman sprung off Mike's lap. She had been clearly sitting on it, and she was clearly topless – even though her hands were covering her large breasts. Mike was sitting on the bench , with the zipper of his pants down. However, upon shoving the topless woman off his lap, he quickly sprung to his feet, and looked at Nick with evident shock on his face.

"Dolph!" Mike called as if Nick had just been strolling by and he was just trying to get his attention. "This…" He trailed as he glanced to the topless woman, "Maryse is just a friend. It's not what it looks like."

Nick continued to stare blankly at everything ahead of him. Somewhere in a seemingly far away distance was Mike's expression getting soaked in panic – the kind of panic someone experiences when they are fishing for a way out of a bad situation.

"Qui est ce retard?" The woman spoke with her eyes on Mike – questioning him about something about a retard.

Mike looked to her, "Ne vous inquiétez pas, il n'y a personne." He laughed nervously to what was said, and then looked back at Nick. "juste un chien pitoyable."

It was then that Nick returned to his present reality. "Chien?" He parroted – garnering the attention of the woman as well. "Chien….as is French for dog?"

Mike's expression began to change as panic ran amuck in his brain. "Dolph" He paused, "Nicky~" He cooed as he began to lessen the space between himself and Nick. "I'm hardly in town to see you, and all these needs of mine tend to build up. Maryse was just an outlet"

The label did not sit well with Maryse as she threw a cuss word under her breath, grabbed her shirt, and headed out the locker room. Nick had tried to follow her with his eyes, but by now Mike had breached his personal space, and Nick was terrified. Not of Mike…of the missing feelings he suddenly realized weren't there.

"I'm sorry Nicky." Mike spoke softly as his hands rested firmly on Nick's shoulders. Eyes locked onto Nick's now frightened pair. Every word now mattered. "I screwed up, but I promise it will never happen again." He gently put a few stray strands of Nick's damp hair behind his ear, while leaning in close. "You smell nice." He planted a light kiss on Nick's neck, "How about I make it up you at your place tonight?" He growled, as he nibbled on Nick's ear. "Let me show you how sorry I am."

He wasn't here at the moment. He was back in the bar, sobbing over his seventh Gin and Tonic, and listening to the gentle voice of a beefy bartender. Forgive him, screamed in Nick's head, and he wanted to do just that. Just wrap his arms around Mike's neck, pull him close, ignore the stench of that woman Mayrse, and forgive him. But,

"I can't." Nick stated softly. Mike ceased his foreplay to look at Nick. The blonde showed him an unexpectedly firm expression.

"You can't?" Mike scoffed dryly, "I thought you loved me, Nicky."

The word struck a chord in Nick's heart, and instantly the older man wanted to run away from his foolish pride and tell Mike he loved him and everything would be okay. But…

"Even If I forgive you," Nick started – unsure of where he was taking this, or what reaction he was hoping to get, "I will always know that at one time, you thought I wasn't good enough." His eyes welled up with tears, and while he knew he could stop the pain by shutting his mouth and letting Mike reclaim him, Nick felt terrified at the realization that he truly was alone. Mike didn't love him. Mike couldn't love him. He knew it the first night. He knew it the second night, and the third, and the fourth, and every night for four years. He knew it because for every night they spent locked in passion, Mike was drunk. But no matter how drunk the brunette got, he could never tell Nick he loved him, because in reality, he never did. "I can't keep loving you anymore."

The statement served as the breaking point for Mike. His demeanor immediately soured as his eyes went cold and dark. Nick quietly sobbed, but held onto Mike's hand in hopes of Mike stepping in to cease what he now felt. The brunette did so by viciously backhanding Nick across the face.

Now suddenly on the floor, Nick looked up at Mike in shock. It took the throbbing pain of his now bruised face for Nick to realize he had just been struck.

"Even when you're hit, you're still fucking pitiful." He snarled in disgust, "Chienne!" He spat brutally as he walked by Nick. "Don't come near me ever again." He glared at him momentarily – drinking in the hopeless and heartbroken look stamped into Nick's eyes. "You make me sick."

Nick watched in horror as Mike turned away to leave him. Instantly, his sanity returned from behind the fog of poorly buried feelings, and had him scrambling to stand as he tried to chase after Mike. By the time he got to his feet, the brunette had already left the room. /No!/ Nick screamed inside as he began to chase the man he loved. However, barely two steps out the door, and he bumped into a broad chest – one that served to cut him off from Mike.

"Watch it" A husky voice spoke commandingly to him, as a hand held his upper arm to steady him from falling.

"I-I'm sorry, but please excuse me!" Nick spoke rapidly as he tried to push past the person stood ahead of him. His eyes frantically searched for Mike, but the brunette had vanished. /No! Please no!/ He screamed, as he continued to claw away at the deterrent to get to Mike.

"Geez." The lazy voice finally broke through to Nick – stopping the man's frantic movements. "Why are you such a crybaby?"

Panicked blue eyes filled to the brim with tears, looked up at the face of the person holding onto him. "Y-You" He called outside himself.

"It's not 'you'" He sighed, "My name is Dean. Four letters. D-E-A-N." He smiled cheekily, "You stopped crying."

There were many things at play. There were the feelings he had to overcome just to get here. There was the sight of Mike with a woman. There was the sound of Mike speaking French like it was his second language. There was the clammy feel of Mike's hand on his shoulders, of Mike's tongue on his ears, of Mike's lips on his neck. There was the stinging feeling of where Mike had hit him. There was the warmth of Dean's touch. There was the softness in Dean's voice. There was the smell of motor oil and shitty cigarettes.

Everything overwhelmed Nick, and in an instant, he buried his head in Dean's chest and broke down crying. For a moment, Dean felt off-put by Nick's sudden reaction, but quickly curbed it.

"You cry too damn much." He spoke while patting Nick's head.

"S-Sorry" Was all that Nick managed to spit out as his sobs grew heavier and louder.

Dean sighed heavily, and placed his arm around Nick – squeezing the man closer to him. "It's okay." He spoke while resting the tip of his chin gently atop the mass of spiral platinum blond hair on Nick's head. "Since you're cute, I'll let you get away with it this once."


	6. Threats

"Babe?"

Blue eyes stared intently at the reflection looking back from behind the mirror. Somewhere inside that reflection's head were his thoughts.

"Ba~be~"

A pair of tattooed arms soon came into view from behind where the reflection stood. He watched it as though disconnected by the screen of a television, and slowly came to the realization that the reflection belonged to him. And the arms now around his waist were not his.

"Randy!" He shouted as he pushed the larger man away.

Randy smirked confidently at the blush present on Nick's face. "It's your own fault for spacing out like that." He stepped closer to the blonde – backing them up towards the large mirrors. "Ignore me like that again and I'll rape you."

Nick grimaced visibly to the thought, as he shoved Randy away having come to his senses. "Today needs to end faster."

"Aww, don't say that babe." Randy spoke in a faux kind tone. His face leaned in closer to Nick's. "Today is the last day I get to freely call you babe. After this, I'll have to contend with your fighting." He grinned coyly, "Then again," His voice lowered as he inched closer to Nick, "I get harder the more you struggle."

Nick returned with an empathetic "gross", before pushing Randy far enough away to allow him room to escape. It took less than a few steps before he entered the trainer's break room. Once there, he took the closest seat, and immediately began to think on the last few days.

The last few days had been hell.

With the fluorescent bulbs flickering lightly above his head, Nick tried to clear his mind long enough to allow him a moment to truly find a word to describe what he was feeling. After realizing he was crying on another man's chest, in broad daylight, in the backroom of the Raw arena, Nick promptly excused himself from the awkward situation and ran back to his car. He cried there. Then he drove, and cried. Parked at his apartment, and cried. Entered his apartment, and cried. Laid down on the bed he once shared with Mike, and cried. And as he tried to sleep, he cried. The night went away, and day came, and he was still crying. Just fucking crying like a crybaby.

It was then that he recalled Dean. The sweet smell of motor oil and bad cigarettes that fumigated Dean's muscular chest. The strength and warmth coming from Dean's embrace. The raw huskiness of his voice as he spoke words of pseudo comfort. The weight of Dean's chin-bone pressed on his skull. All these vivid memories took his mind off Mike, and soon after, the tears stopped flowing.

And now, sitting in the break room of the training center, Nick realized that it was due to Dean that he suddenly felt the way he felt. He was sad about Mike. Even thinking about Mike hurt. However, tears refused to fall. It was as if his body was sick of crying over Mike. Nick felt grateful for this, but continued to worry over this troubling state of being he was currently experiencing. As stated before, he was sad about Mike. However, it was like a sadness he had to dig six feet into to experience. Otherwise, he was just like 'meh' sad, and then his mind would switch back to Dean, and he'd feel heavy. And light. It was all weird, and Randy's rape threats weren't doing much to help.

"That's him." Nick looked down towards the door to see a tall blond standing in the doorway.

When the blond moved, a short brunette appeared. "Hi." He spoke with a cheerful smile as he walked over to where Nick sat, "I'm AJ."

Nick stared blankly at this newcomer, before deciding to put aside his thoughts about being heavy and light where Dean was concerned in favor for being professional. "Hi AJ." He smiled lightly, "If you need me for something, I can schedule you in later after I've had my break."

"I don't really need a meeting with you." AJ spoke smiling still. "I just wanted to ask if you were the guy people say they saw hugging Dean Ambrose."

Panic befell Nick in an instant. He thought back to that fateful day, and recalled his maddening blind sprint towards Mike, Dean stopping him from going further, and then…

"If you're looking for Dean, you might want to try Alli's Grocery store." Nick spoke as calmly as he could muster. "He's working—"

"No he's not." AJ spoke – his smile now plastered onto his face like the ones found on porcelain dolls. "He likes to do that from time to time." Nick looked on confused. "Pretend."

"Pretend?" Nick repeated, unsure of what the word meant in the context of Dean. "So, he doesn't work there?"

AJ chuckled lightly, "Nope." He slightly cocked his head – eyes still fiercely on Nick's face. This only added to the man's discomfort. "Anyways, I just wanted to see who Dean was talking about."

Nick was royally confused, but "Dean talks about me?" stuck somehow.

AJ nodded a bit, before turning to leave. "Oh!" He exclaimed, looking over his shoulder as he did. "If you hurt him" The creepy smile fell for a cold tone, "I'll kill you."

With the threat issued, AJ left the room as calmly as he arrived. In the meantime, Nick was having trouble keeping his heart from racing about with all the levels of panic that had just left his body. Somehow, AJ knew what he was, and instead of making his life hell, the odd brunette let it be. Nick thought on it, and figured the kind treatment was because AJ had to know Dean was gay – given how open he was on their first meeting. However, before any sense of structure could entire Nick's mind, he recalled that Dean was gay. And AJ was issuing threats. Just friends don't do that, he thought with a frown marking his face, /Who the hell are you, Dean?/


	7. An Apple A Day

Nick grew up with a large family filled with competitive, passionate, and talented individuals. As part of his nature, Nick ended up always striving to be number one, because the best got noticed. Second best did not. However, in his career, although his talent was un-denied and his work ethic unchallenged, WWE brass didn't believe in Mr. Stealing-The-Show, and suddenly Nick was second best. Then Mike happened, and his stance on the totem pole of life diminished. He was now on the bottom rung, with nothing but his fears, and pride to keep him from fading away entirely.

However, for as bad as being on the bottom rung was, it had its perks. One of which was no longer having anything to lose. He had lost his dream job, and now his first love. All he had left was a shred of dignity – the only thing playing a hand in trying to decipher why he decided to go and stalk Dean Ambrose. Nick blamed that moment backstage for all this confusion. His heart was a mess – it was broken, but didn't hurt – he couldn't cry even if his life depended on it, and now his mind couldn't seem to let go of its memories of the messy haired blonde.

Driven near mad by this strange conundrum, Nick took himself to the only place he could think of to find Dean. /Where is he?/ He asked himself as he snuck around the isles of Alli's Grocery looking for the man wearing a name badge with _Dean_ written on it. Ten minutes into his search, and Nick had prepared to give up. However, standing next to the pineapple display, kneading away at an apple in his hand was the very reason Nick was a mess.

"Hey." He called as coolly as he could. Dean looked up at him, with a short-lived look of surprise sprinting across his face. "You should wash that before you eat it." He gestured to the apple. "When too many people handle something, it gets dirty." That whole sentence hurt, and Nick regretted putting himself through that.

Dean looked at him with boorish eyes, before biting into the apple anyway. Nick watched in shock as the man chewed away at the piece of fruit, swallowing loudly when he was done. "Dirty things are usually the things people should treasure more." He set up to take another bite, before handing the apple to Nick. "Don't go crying on me again."

Nick blinked rapidly, and instinctively wiped at his eyes. His hands came back wet. He looked to Dean in shock. /Why do I always cry when I see this guy?/ Nick thought with his blue eyes set firmly on Dean - hunting on his face the answer for his question. It was then that he thought on the possibility that his ears weren't used to hearing kind things, as Mike never spoke them, but yet Dean said all those words with ease.

"My arm's about to fall off." Dean's raspy voice cut into Nick's train of thought.

The man in question titled his gaze slightly downwards, and stared at the apple being offered. He smiled lightly at the gesture. "Thanks." He spoke while taking the fruit, and biting into it as well.

Dean watched as Nick chewed and swallowed. The platinum haired man smiled shyly at him as he went in for another bite. "Don't forget to pay for that." Dean spoke matter-of-factly, stopping Nick in his tracks. "You don't and it'll be stealing."

A small chuckle came out and quickly escalated into a loud, barking laugh. Dean joined in as Nick continued to guffaw, before stopping once Nick had done so. Nick handed back the remainder of the apple to Dean. The blonde looked at it, and shrugged.

"No thanks." He returned his gaze to the pineapples, before picking one up as if checking its weight. "I heard AJ went looking for you." Nick tensed a bit to the name. He had planned to bring that up, but not in the grocery store. Too many eyes and ears. "He's always been protective of me." Dean spoke dryly, as he continued to feel the pineapple. "Older bros tend to be like that."

"He's your brother?" Nick asked intrigued, only to realize that this was not why he came looking for Dean.

"The only one I've got left." Dean spoke staidly as he placed the pineapple back down.

"I'm sorry." Nick replied in a saddened tone.

Dean peeked over to Nick, and held his stare on the man's lowered eyes and general sorry mood. "Don't do that." Nick looked up sheepishly at him. Dean frowned slightly, "You look pitiful." He looked away to the pineapples. "It's a major turnoff."

Instantly, Nick's mind went blank as his subconscious was thrust back into the locker room with Mike towering over him. _Pitiful_. That's all he ever heard. Mike had said it, and Nick had finally gotten over it. Now, the man who was responsible for getting him to this calm, and dare-it-be-said, happier state of mind was also calling him pitiful.

"Even you?" Nick asked under a harsh breath. Dean looked over at him to see animated flames stemming in all directions emitting from Nick. The sight amused Dean, and put a grin on his face, which only served to enrage Nick even more. "Fuck you, asshole!"

Were the last words spoken by Nick to Dean, before the thrown apple landed on Dean's raised shoulder. By the time the half-eaten fruit hit the floor, Nick had already left Dean's line of sight. Dean stared at where Nick once stood, before looking at the apple lying at his feet.

"Aren't you going to pick that up?"

Dean turned to see a skinny man looking at him from behind thick glasses. Dean glanced back to the apple, and then to the skinny man. The man looked at his name badge.

"Hey!" He spoke up as his eyes went wide, "That's mine."

Dean looked to the badge, and smiled brightly. "Small world." He tore the bad off his hoodie, and handed it to the skinny man. "Here you go, _Dean_."

"Thank you." The man spat rudely. "Are you paying for that?" He asked, motioning to the discarded half-eaten apple laying on the tiled floor.

Dean looked around, and stared a bit longer at the area that once held Nick's frame. "I guess so." He smirked. "How much?"


	8. Savior

His reflection stared at him. He stared back. /I look like crap/ He spoke mentally, referring to the bags under his eyes, the lines everywhere on his face, and the redness in his eyes. Two of these terrifying things were the fault of that word, _pitiful_ , and how much he hated hearing it in reference to him. The reason for his distressed look was all thanks to that word and the man who spoke it.

As he stood loathing how rundown he had started to look, Nick immediately thought on his actions in the grocery store. /I can't believe I threw a damn apple!/ He scolded, with his head now hung low in shame, /I'm an adult for crying out loud!/ He sighed heavily as he looked back at his poor reflection. /I can't keep letting him get to me/ He nodded to the thought.

For two days he had called out from work, all because of Dean Ambrose. The look of disdain on the man's face when he said the word pitiful had seeped so far into Nick's subconscious that he nearly let Randy die as he had failed to properly spot the brunette, and the weight held above him had slipped and had fallen onto of him. As before, Randy covered for Nick's failure, and made a deal that he could hug him as much as he wanted. Nick permitted it to nowhere below the shoulders. Calling out was his way of cheating out of that stupid deal, and also served to give him the time he needed to clear his mind.

Day two was here, and still his mind was filled with Dean.

Nick sighed as he began to wash his face – hoping the cold water would get rid of some of the stress present on his face. He wanted to find Dean back then to confront him about what happened in the locker room, but between AJ's random threat, and Dean's reaction to his "sorry" look, Nick felt as though he had more questions that would need answering long before he tackled that whole locker room thing. The cold water did what it could, and Nick rinsed his mouth with Listerine, before leaving the bathroom.

A knock suddenly appeared on the door, and Nick's heart began to double up on speed. His first thought was Dean, and it brought him to shock. Mike had always been his first thought, and yet somehow he was anticipating and hoping that it was Dean on the other side of the door. The knock grew louder, and brought Nick the courage he needed to answer the door. Spending a few moments to conjure up his apology, Nick opened the door ready to greet that droopy eyed blonde that had invaded his dreams.

"I told you, Nick" The man in question stood shell shocked behind his door. "If you ignore me again, I'll rape you."

Nick felt as the brunette tried to force his way in, and this kicked him into defense mode. At first, he barely fought back – expecting Randy to give up quickly on his prank and be on his way – however when the brunette pushed him down on the floor, Nick knew this was serious.

"Randy! Stop!" He shouted, as he began to claw at the larger man, in an effort to get him off.

Randy grinned sickeningly as he drew his tongue over his lips. "You keep fighting and I'll only get more excited." He planted a kiss on Nick.

The blonde immediately bit into Randy's lip, forcing his to pull away. This lit Orton's face up with the fire of anger. "Randy" He tried reasoning, "just calm down and—"

Out of nowhere, Randy bit hard into Nick's neck. The blonde screamed at the top of his lungs as he felt blood ooze from the cuts. With his teeth sunk into Nick's flesh, Randy began to disrobe the man from the waist down. Nick kicked and pushed, but Randy easily overpowered him, and began to undress his lower half. Full-fledged panic set in, and Nick shouted more in an effort to snap Randy out of whatever trance he was in. The cries went on deaf ears, and Nick braced himself for the pain.

A loud thudding sound came into Nick's ears after what seemed like an eternity, and forced open his scared blue eyes. From the angle of the floor, Nick watched as Randy's back ate the wall in the hallway, only to then have his face eat rapid fire punches. Inside Nick cheered for this person who had come by, but immediately began to worry about how he would explain this to his savior. A man trying to rape another man. No other way to spin it.

Minutes went by, and Nick finally noticed that Randy had stopped fighting back. His attacker, however, continued to destroy his face with hard punches. To this, Nick rose up and quickly crawled over to where Randy lay. He grabbed the attacker in an attempt to put himself between bludgeoning fists and Randy's money-making face.

"Stop!" He shouted when the attacker continued to try to hit Randy, "It's okay, so just stop!"

"It's not fucking okay!" The voice brought Nick's attention to his attacker's face. Dean glared back with an expression coated in the embers of unbridled rage. "He just attacked you!" Dean barked as he landed another one on Randy, "He deserves to die!"

For a moment, all Nick could feel was warmth. Seeing Dean, especially in a moment like this, made him relieved and happy. Relieved because it wasn't someone random who came to find him in this predicament, and happy because that someone who came was Dean.

He deserves to die hit minutes after, and Nick immediately hugged Dean in an effort to quell his anger.

"Calm down." Nick spoke in a soothing voice. "Please." He spoke into the side of Dean's neck.

Ambrose froze for a minute, before releasing his fist. He looked to his hands as they rested on the floor. They were covered in blood he didn't recognize, with his handiwork lying lifeless a few inches away. Dean immediately placed his face into the mass of messy hair atop Nick's head in an effort to calm down.

Nick continued to hold Dean, and smiled a little as he felt the man's tension begin to dissipate.

"Nick" Dean called in a low voice. The sound of his name coming from Dean sent a shiver down Nick's spine. It was cold like the one he got when staring into Randy's empty eyes, but surprisingly warm. That was Dean. Heavy yet light. Cold yet warm. "My hands are bloodied."

Nick began to pull away to address that issue, only to feel Dean grab him in a hug, and squeeze tightly. Nick stared at the hallway behind Dean, and smiled sweetly as he felt calmness finally wash over Dean.

"I'm getting you dirty." Dean spoke in a whisper, "I'm sorry."

Nick laughed shortly, "It's fine." He held on tighter, "It just means you'll treasure me more, right?"

Dean nodded, and pulled Nick in closer. Behind them, Randy struggled for breath.


	9. Daylight Saving Time

He wasn't looking to fall in love. Eventually, Nick did believe he would fall in love again. Mike was his first, but he knew enough to know the brunette would not be his last. So Nick knew he would fall in love, but he assumed it would be with someone else. Someone like Mike, but faithful. Someone who was kind, and calm, and sweet. Someone like Mike, but better.

Nick lay staring at Dean's sleeping face. The incident with Randy had opened two doors. One was the door that showed Nick the meaning of never making deals with a psycho. The second door was his sudden feelings for Dean. Well, _sudden_ wasn't necessarily precise. Thinking back, Nick realized he was long since forgone when it came to how he felt about Dean the first night they met. He had told the bartender the story about love at first sight, but questioned its validity every night he spent with Mike. Now, the sun was out and Dean was sleeping next to him. He didn't leave and give him a bullshit excuse. He didn't help himself to the beer in the fridge just so he could find the will to lay down next to another man. Dean did exactly the opposite of what Mike would do, because he was Mike's exact opposite.

Dean had bedhead, wore tattered clothes, looked like a hobo with his scruffy beard, smelt of motor oil, cigarettes, and now sweat. And it was all cute in Nick's eyes. His cheeky smile, his intense eyes, his rough fingertips. Nick found himself falling for it all, but as Dean stirred awake, he could not shake the fear of once again being left behind.

"You're up early." Dean spoke groggily as he stretched out the remainder of sleep that held him.

"I got some well needed sleep." He blushed hard, "Thanks to you."

Dean looked at him, and smiled tenderly. "No problem." He spoke as he planted an unexpected kiss on Nick's lips.

The man was not prepared, and barely had time to respond, before Dean went in for another more intense kiss. This time, Nick gathered himself quickly enough to get over the fact that Dean was kissing him, and focused more on the fact that Dean was an awesome kisser, before deciding to join in in the fun. Dean raked his teeth over Nick's lip, before slipping his tongue over Nick's. Nick began to feel weak the longer Dean toyed with his taste buds, and quickly found himself oxygen deprived. Sensing that Nick was fading fast, Dean leaned back and broke the kiss. Nick looked at him with dreamy eyes, and Dean smiled to the sight.

The scruffy-haired blonde slipped up on his knees, and walked himself over Nick. A natural response overcome him, and had Nick bringing his knees up to make room. However, his mind returned, and kept his leg welded shut together, while he began to hope against his rapidly beating heart that Dean would simply slip off the bed.

"You know," Dean spoke with a seductive growl, "We can't do anything if you keep your legs closed, Nick." Nick looked up at him with a broader range of terror splashed across his eyes. Dean smirked at the reaction as he leaned closer to his conquest.

Nick watched from the outside looking in as Dean slipped closer, and in one push of his rough hands, spread his legs widely apart, sinking his body in between the space that served to join him to Dean. The feeling of fear and excitement put Nick in unfamiliar territory as before, with Mike, he only felt fear. Fear of knowing that this was going to hurt, and after it was over, Mike would be gone again. With Dean now resting light kisses on his neck and working down his chest, Nick managed to come back from his terror, and realize with urgency that he was in the process of being devoured.

"W-Wait! Hold on!" Nick shouted as he pushed his hands under Dean's chin to successfully shove the man's lips off his skin. Dean glared at him in annoyance, and the look sent a cold fingernail running down the middle of his back. "It's daytime."

"And?" Dean growled.

"Y-You'll see." Nick whimpered in panic. "You'll see…me."

Dean sighed under a heavy breath, before turning his face down and running his hot tongue over the palms of Nick's hands. This led to Nick's face lighting up bright red, and further added to the look of bewilderment sitting kingly on his face. The reaction kicked Dean in the funny bone, and he began laughing.

It was now Nick's turn to be a little annoyed. "What's so funny?"

Dean finished his laughter before responding. "You." He quickly rested his weight on Nick's chest and abdomen.

Instantly, Nick jerked back a bit as he felt his crotch be pressed on by what was definitely a hard-on. The blonde looked at Dean's garments and found that the man was wearing jeans down there, so feeling an erection through denim, and the heavy fabric of his own sweatpants made him imagine what that erection looked and felt like. The streaks of sunlight that had come as part of the package deal labelled 'daytime' whisked across both men, and lit up Dean's hair. It looked like autumn atop his head.

"I wanna see you. I wanna see everything." Dean spoke with his head turned facing the bedroom wall. "Wow!" He exclaimed, as he looked back up at Nick, "Your heart's beating like crazy."

Once again, Nick's face lit up red, and had the man shoving Dean away, and in the same breath, scrambling to escape the room that had sudden become painfully smaller. He didn't get very far as no sooner had he reacted to Dean's words, did the man in question reach out and grab him – pinning him back down to the bed.

Nick watched as Dean fluidly removed his jacket and shirt, to reveal a beautifully sculpted body. The sight sent Nick's desires into overdrive, so much so that he failed to realize the danger he was in until the cold A/C air bathed his suddenly exposed lower half.

"W-W-W-Wha—?" Was all Nick got out, before Dean dove back down to him, and locked his lips in another mind-blowing kiss. This one felt a little different however. It felt hungrier, and that shot a strange sensation throughout Nick's being – resulting in his very own erection.

Nick felt as Dean smiled during their kiss, and began to panic once he felt Dean's fingers trace down the length of the underside of his now raised thigh. He shook like a leaf under the grip of a cold breeze, and felt frozen in a sense of knowing what was coming, but being somehow incapable of stopping it.

"Relax, Nick." Dean's rough voice scraped the inner parts of his ear, and had Nick tensing even more. "Relax."

With head spinning, heart racing, and his body refusing to figure out what needed to be done to fix it all, Nick could do nothing more than follow the instructions of the man whose fingers were now inside him. Instinctively, he shut his eyes tight and held onto Dean's shoulders and back as the foreign objects moved around – pushing in and pulling part-way out.

"Listen" Dean spoke in his husky voice, as he placed a light kiss on Nick's reddened ear.

The platinum blonde did as commanded of him, and became overwhelmed with the squelching sound coming from his ass. It drove him mad hearing his body react this way, and he began tightening up again as a result.

Dean smirked at the reaction, as he slipped his other hand over Nick's manhood. Without breaking once, Dean continued to work Nick's hole, while vigorously stroking the man's erection. Instantly, Nick's eyes flew open as pleasure coursed through his entire body with a vengeance. Dean's lips set down on the side of his neck and nipped away at it, and added fuel to the fire now lit in Nick. Instinct only step in again to have him bite his lower lip in an effort to stop his voice from escaping. Mike didn't like to hear a man's moaning.

Dean pulled away from assaulting Nick's neck to look at the man's face as he continued to work away at bringing him to a climax. Nick turned away shamefully as he felt his face burn to the blush that had worked its way all over.

"Look at me." Dean spoke softly. Nick shook his head meekly as he felt his body slip further away from his control. To the defiance, Dean clicked his teeth, and pulled out of Nick.

This brought Nick's attention back to Dean. His eyes screamed with desperation, and without truly thinking of it he still held on to Dean. The towering man smiled down at him with his usual brazenness, before sliding his hands under Nick's back and pulling the man closer to him. A lot of time wasn't allotted to Nick, as no sooner did he realize his proximity to Dean did Dean's manhood push into him.

Once more, Nick squeezed his eyes shut, and began to tense out of fear of the pain soon to follow. Mike never bothered with foreplay, so the act of sex would often be dry and raw. Not able to imagine going through that kind of pain again, Nick drifted his mind away from the situation. With Dean's fingers pulling at his imprisoned lower lip, Nick's mind didn't get very far as it was dragged back to the front lines.

"Let your voice out." He spoke between low, ragged breaths. "I wanna hear it." Nick stubbornly held on, but the more Dean moved, the weaker his stubbornness got. Dean continued to push himself into Nick, stopping once his pelvis now brushed against Nick's buttocks. "It's all in now" Dean spoke as he planted a kiss on Nick's forehead. "Good boy." The man responded by letting out a breathy whimper.

Without fair warning, Dean began thrusting himself into Nick. Being inside the blonde all the way to the hilt only made Nick feel every move Dean made that much more. His mind spazzed into a fizzle as pleasure replaced all thought. His body reacted on its own, and soon, his mouth slipped open to let out a series of cries. Dean smirked as he continued to thrust into Nick, but soon leaned back into a seated position – pulling a startled Nick up and setting him down on his lap.

The change of position put a temporary stop to Dean's movements. He took the moment to gently push away Nick's hair so as to get a better look at his flushed face. The man was staring back with tears pouring from his eyes, spit hanging from his mouth, and sweat oozing out of every pore. Dean smiled at his accomplishments before leaning in and grabbing hold of Nick's wet lips. As his kiss deepened, his pace quickened. Overwhelmed, Nick's body tried to pull away for a second, but Dean's hand held tightly on the back of Nick's head and kept the man securely in place. Nick whimpered with every rough breath that escaped his nostrils, and held on for dear life. Dean smirked, as he pulled on Nick's hair – forcing his head back and exposing the bareness of his neck. Instantly, Dean's tongue came into play as it worked its way down Nick's throat, and then back up to his chin. Feeling the rough stubble on Nick's chin across his tongue made Dean swoon, and in an instant, he released his hold on Nick's hair, preferring to grab Nick's perfect ass in both hands. Released from the torment of Dean's tongue, Nick tightened his hold around Dean's shoulders, and began to moan louder the longer Dean stayed inside him.

With lighting quickness, Dean grabbed the side of Nick's face and pulled him to his lips. Once more, they were locked in a hungry, and passionate kiss. This time, Nick could not hold back the floodgates of pleasure, and instantly came with a thunderous resound. Dean followed shortly behind, with a barely audible groan signaling his own arrival.

Now drained of all energy, and still caught in the thick fogs of pleasure, Nick slumped down to rest his head-on Dean's shoulder. The morning grew brighter outside with only the staggered breaths of both men to greet it.


	10. Old Habits Die Hard

There was a weird feeling of happiness coupled with insecurity that had recently begun to infect the mind and heart of Nick. It had been two weeks now, and he was still dating Dean. Well, considering that they did no more than eat, watch TV, and have sex together, Nick was hard pressed to truly say he was 'dating' Dean. This was majorly due to the fact that he and Dean – like he and Mike – never went out together. However, this time was not the fault of Mike's heterosexuality. Nick was at fault seeing that he made no effort towards being seen together with Dean, and instead had the man meet him at his apartment, and leave at separate times - a habit, it seemed, he was hard-pressed to kick.

The thought that he had become like Mike made him sad, as he begun to realize that maybe the issue in his former relationship wasn't the fact that partner preferred girls, but was more to his own insecurities. He was afraid of the shame and hate he would face from coworkers, family, and friends should he come out. This thought had nothing to do with Mike who was no longer a factor in his life, but more so had to do with what he decided upon back in his childhood years. Now nearly forty, and Nick began to feel the overwhelming weight of his secret identity.

"You're ignoring me again, Nick." Randy's cold voice brought Nick out of his thoughts. His eyes looked down to Randy – who lying down on his back with one leg brought up and held in place by Nick's own hands – as his brain returned to reality.

"Sorry." He spoke briskly, as he pushed Randy's leg gently back. "After this, you'll be ready for a run on the treadmill."

"Come on! I just got back from the hospital!" He groaned. "Have a heart."

Nick sighed as he pulled Randy's leg forward to stretch it out. "You've slowed down in the ring. It's for your own good." He motioned for Randy to give him the other leg, and proceeded to push down on it as once it reached his grip.

Randy's observant gaze stayed on Nick for a few moments, before the brunette spoke up again. "You should blame that guy who attacked me." He pouted, "Who the hell was he anyways?"

Nick stiffened for a second, but brushed the feeling off by busying himself with helping Randy stretch. "He only did that to stop you." He spoke dryly as he pulled Randy's leg forward, "And his name is Dean."

"Dean, huh?" Randy asked without a need for an answer. He watched as Nick's face lit up to the tender touches of a light-footed blush. "Did you fuck him yet?"

"Wha—?"

"Was he good?" Cut into Nick's shock-filled response.

For a long few moments, Nick stared wide-eyed at Randy, unsure of how to respond. The terror in him clawed away in favor of his usual defense. Lie, and move on. However, thinking back to Dean, and how wonderfully free the younger man was, made Nick reconsider his first choice for the first time in his life. It wasn't that Randy had to really know anything. This was just one of his clients, not his Dad or brother. Additionally, giving Randy any details of how amazing Dean was may just bring back his IED rage. And the last thing Nick wanted was to battle through another one of those.

"Take a break." He spoke dismissively as he straightened and began to walk away.

Randy quickly jumped to his feet and caught Nick before he could slip into the trainer's break room. "It'll do you no good to run from me." His words were matched only by the grip tightening on Nick's arm. His face darkened with his tone – further scaring Nick. "If you've let some hobo fuck you after you rejected me, I'll—"

"You'll what?" Both men turned to the sound of an alien voice, with one man looking on with relief to the sight, and the other becoming more enraged. "I fucked him." Dean spoke mordantly – instantly putting panic into Nick's being – as he pointed his lollipop towards Randy's face. "So now what?"

Instantly, Randy released Nick, only to grab Dean by his shirt, and slam him into the surface of a nearby wall. Flames of hate coursed through Randy's eyes as he glared something vicious at Dean. Dean stared back with a nonchalant gaze set in his eyes, and continued to suck on his lollipop. Nick watched a bit shell-shocked as Randy drew back his fist with his sights locked on Dean. However, before anyone could react, Dean instantly grabbed both sides of Randy's head, and knocked him square on the forehead with a thunderous headbutt. The brunette immediately stumbled and fell to one knee.

"Dean!" Nick called – having noticed the blood slowly draining from where Dean had cracked his own skull. Without prior thought, Nick immediately ran over to Dean and began patting away the blood with the towel once hanging from his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Dean smiled gently at Nick's concerned expression, before slipping a hand around his waist to pull the man closer to him. "I am now." He spoke huskily.

For a second, Nick fell into the fog that seemed to accompany Dean whenever he got close to the him. However, hearing Randy's low growl woke him from his trance, and soon his mind began to panic. There was an altercation, so eyes were on them. And then there was Dean speaking a truth no one had any business knowing. And then, Nick realized, there was Dean holding him and gently stroking his thumb over his lower back. In an instant of terror, Nick pushed Dean away, startling Dean in the process.

"Dean!" Another voice entered the awkward space, and brought all three men's attention to a shorter brunette trotting over to them.

"Hey bro." Dean spoke unconcerned, and walked over to meet the running man halfway.

Randy slowly stood to his feet, and glanced to Nick. The blonde was holding his wrist in a tight grip, and his eyes sat fixed on Dean.

"If running away hurts so much," He began – bringing Nick's saddened gaze to him, "just stop running."

Nick stared at Randy silently, before slipping his gaze down to look at the floor beneath them. "I'm not." He lied with a soft voice. "You should take a break."

Randy scoffed at the weak command, before gently patting Nick on the head, and walking away. Nick heaved a heavy sigh before looking back to Dean – finding the older man glaring at him.

"I'll catch you later, Dean." The brunette chipped with his arm around Dean's shoulder.

Dean barely glanced to him, mumbled a poor "yeah", only to put his eyes back on Nick. The brunette turned to leave, prompting Dean to place his hands his pockets and walk towards Nick.

Nick stood with his head hung a bit. He was ashamed of his blatant rejection of Dean's welcomed touch, but even more terrified of sudden loss of the words he needed to make this situation right again.

"I used to think you were just being cute" It was Dean who brought the conversation to Nick. The man looked up at him with scared blue eyes. "But in reality, my first impression of you was correct."

Against his better judgement, Nick spoke up with a shaky voice. "Dean…I'm…"

"Don't bother." Dean spoke as he walked by Nick. "Your tears mean shit right now."

A heavy weight collapsed atop of Nick, and threatened to pull his legs from under him. The coldness emitting from Dean as he walked by startled Nick, but barely made any difference in his current position. All the familiar feelings had left him. Fear, insecurity, terror. All of those feelings that fueled his chase after Mike, were quickly replaced with a burning desire to turn around and chase after Dean. Not out of fear, but out of something else. With feet under him, Nick began to do so, but stopped when he recalled the people around him. He had barely scrapped by the last time he chased after a man, and knew he would not be so lucky a second time. The hesitation cost him as Dean was now far out of sight.

/Shit/ Nick cursed inwardly as he felt his eyes grow heavy. He stood in silence, watching as his vision began to blur.


	11. The First Step Is The Hardest

Mike Mizanin was everything Nick ever wanted in a man. He was clean-shaven, well-kept, well-built, confident, intelligent and had a great smile. Upon first seeing Mike, Nick knew he wanted this man. He knew he wanted him, but never showed it when he had him. As his car continued to roam over the road ahead, Nick realized that what attracted him to Mike, did not define what his heart wanted from Mike. A few months into their four years, and Nick knew he had made a grave mistake. However, Mike now knew his secret, and Nick was scared shitless thinking about what would happen if that secret got out. Therefore, in his moment of panic, he did what he always did – something stupid.

By sleeping with Mike, and staying with him, Nick had successfully given Mike his shame to share. Now both men could not escape even if they wanted to. Then Nick retired, and Mike found a way to cope with the stress of being hetero but still sleeping with a man. He taught himself French, and shacked up with a French woman. Mike found the memory more laughable than painful, seeing that he had been trying for years to get Mike to learn a second language to no avail, and was a welcome distraction from what had been plaguing his mind for days now.

Since the incident at the training facility, Dean had not returned to Nick. Three days passed, and Nick did not hear anything from the blonde. Instincts asked that he contact Dean by phone, however, sadly, Nick realized in the time he was with Dean, he never took the initiative to further their lines of communication. In fact, as day four rolled along with no sight of Dean, Nick felt the guttural pangs stemming from grasping how little he knew about Dean. All he had was a name and a description. Nothing more.

Five days. Dean had not shown for five, long, and painful days, and Nick now found himself neck deep in the trenches of worry. The idea that Dean might never return had already crossed Nick's mind by now, but the fear of that idea turning into truth scared him to death. This fear drove him from his apartment, and into the only place he knew he would find Ambrose. However, when asked, Alli's Grocery manager presented a 'Dean' to him, but he was nothing more than a sickly-looking, skinny man who looked nothing like the Dean who had ran off with his heart.

As the car made a right turn, Nick dwelled more on the pain caused from the utter defeat he felt seeing someone else in the one place he could think of to find Dean Ambrose. However, as hurtful as coming face to face with how heartless he must have seemed to Dean all this time, Nick knew he that the agony he was feeling was to be expected. Dean Ambrose, after all, had randomly shown up in his life, and then randomly disappeared from it. However, for the short time that Dean remained in Nick's life, the man had opened Nick's mind and heart to different places he never knew existed. Places where people like Mike was nowhere to be found. In doing so, Dean had profoundly affected Nick to the point where his entire being remained incapable of functioning, sleep vanished from him, and the tears he had thought ran out due to Mike, came back in full effect preventing him from thinking straight. It was during this moment of utter distraught that Nick desperately sought out another means of finding Dean.

AJ rightfully held Nick's request in high suspicion. He had witnessed Nick's cold treatment of his brother, and was intent of sticking to the threat he had issued Nick the first day they met. However, as Nick begged for any information as to where he could find or contact Dean, AJ felt himself warm to the man's desperation. It reminded him of Dean a few years ago. Back then, he was just as pitiful. Regardless, AJ allowed Nick to grovel more, before caving and giving the blonde the coordinates of Dean's location.

Nick wasted no time thinking. With the information in hand, he instantly grabbed his car keys, and set out to find Dean. Nearly forty minutes later, and he arrived at the address AJ had given to him. The sight of a hotel rightfully shocked him given that he had assumed Dean would be living in some kind of home. A hotel was a far cry from home, and the sight of it made Nick uneasy seeing that hotels only ever held two kinds of people – tourists and drifters.

On the outside, Nick looked collected and calm, in spite of the lines of worry creasing his forehead. Inside, however, Nick felt scared and nervous. He thought on the possibility that AJ had lied to him. Maybe the man had sent him on a wild goose chase as revenge for his hurting Dean. As this was his last bit of hope, Nick immediately put the terrifying thought to rest. Immediately following, he thought about this address being the truth, but finding the hotel room empty of Dean's presence. Then the real fear set in, as his mind chewed on the worst possible scenario in which Dean would be in the hotel only to slam the door in his face for good.

That idea sent a tremor of dread through him as he thought on how painful that kind of rejection was. It wasn't as though he was new to the act of rejection. Nick was used to rejection from a sober Mike, but then again, he always had Mike's heterosexuality as an excuse to shield him from it. With Dean being openly gay, Nick felt scared of the knowledge that should Dean reject him, he would have nothing to hide behind. He would be exposed to those raw emotions, and in the face of something so brutal, Nick knew he would never recover.

/Get a grip, Nick!/ Nick gave himself a well needed pep talk to the feel of tears stumbling down his face. /Stop fucking crying all the time, and just get in there!/ His hands clamped down on his face, and dragged away all traces of tears. He took a deep breath in and entered the building. At first, the sight of the reception desk proved to be an obstacle given that he wasn't a guest here. However, he recalled the fact that he already knew Dean's room number, and quickly ducked behind a few passing tourists – slipping quickly into the open elevator nearby.

The ride up felt long, and the extended time did not sit well with Nick's nervous state of mind. His innards were failing on him the more he thought on what coming here meant. Coming here meant he was over Mike. Coming here meant he was in love with Dean. Coming here meant he was going to come out. Eventually, he thought, he would have to come out. However, watching Dean leave him that day in the center, Nick came to realize that he didn't have _eventually_. He only had now, and if he was going to be with Dean, he would need to come out now.

His eyes glanced to his left, spotting a woman standing in the corner. She was on her phone – clearly amused by what she was looking at – and seemed to not even notice Nick's presence in the moving elevator. Nick stared at her from the corners of his eyes, and felt his heart beat grow louder and heavier the longer he spent mustering up the courage to come out to her – figuring that he would test the waters with a stranger rather than someone he knew.

The sound of the elevator door opening tore his eyes away from the woman, and to the hallway suddenly in view. The woman looked up as well, realized this wasn't her floor, and returned to her phone. Nick drew a deep breath in, and gave himself a mental slap of encouragement.

"Is this your stop?" The woman inquired of the man standing in the open elevator doorway.

Nick looked to her, and then looked ahead. "Yeah."

"Then step off." She spoke harshly.

Nick gave her a quick look of bafflement, before shaking his head to her rudeness, and leaving the elevator. He watched it close, before turning and heading down the hall.

His feet felt heavier the closer he got to his destination, and felt crushed the moment he stopped in front of the door marked 610. Nerves that had been present previously returned in wild fashion, and ran roughshod in his body. Ninety nine percent of him wanted to run away. However, when his eyes closed for a moment of peace, Dean's gentle voice came through, instructing him to relax. The memory brought some well needed calm to his disheveled mindset, and after heaving a heavy breath, he opened his eyes, and took the plunge.


	12. Confessions

In his thirty-six years of life, Nick could not recall a moment where he was so utterly relieved and overjoyed as he was now. After the first knock, Nick stood in the uncomfortable silence wrestling with his desire to run away. The second knock came just as nervously. However, by his third knock, Nick felt resigned to his fate and whatever outcome followed. The door opened before he raised his hand to knock again, and revealed to Nick the sight of a messy haired, and topless Dean Ambrose. Seeing Dean after being unable to do so for what felt like ages, broke Nick's heart and put that pain squarely on his face.

After seeing Nick's expression, Dean drew a heavy sigh, "We haven't met in days, and the first thing you do is cry? " Dean questioned coldly, causing Nick to flinch.

The platinum blonde wanted to stop crying in that instant. Truly. Everything in his being told him to stop, but the strength he needed to do so had already fled. All of that strength had gone into his coming here. The sight of Dean standing within reach brought sense to the strange emotions that had entangled him these past few days. When Mike had dumped him on that locker room floor, the blonde felt angry, and hurt. He felt used, and useless. Despite that, however, he still felt in control. Even as he ran after Mike that night, Nick had a plan. With Dean, the opposite was true, as with Dean, he was out of control. So far that he wasn't even riding shotgun. He was in the trunk, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, and completely trusting in Dean. This realization, coupled with his joy of seeing that AJ wasn't lying, yanked Nick from his shackles and flung his arms around Dean.

The force behind the quick and sudden motion pushed both men back into the hotel room, and given its unexpectedness, Dean quickly lost his footing and fell to the floor with a resounding thud. He looked up at the ceiling with the back of his head throbbing in pain, before glancing to the man now buried in his chest and holding on to him with a grip of steel.

Dean sighed as his chest prickled to the feel of hot tears pooling on it. "You're so pitiful."

To the word, Nick waited on his body to tense, and waited for the anger that followed. However, the reactions he was used to having every time the word 'pitiful' and his name were in the same sentence fell back to a sudden change. Seemingly outside himself, Nick watched as he bypassed anger in opt of clinging more to Dean – further burying himself in the man's naked chest.

"I love you." Clambered hastily out of his mouth, with his close proximity to Dean's chest muffling the sound. "But..." His voice broke, "I'm so fucking scared." Dean sighed again, prompting Nick to sob even more. "I'm scared of messing up! I'm scared of losing you! I'm so fucking terrified of everything involving you!"

Dean looked boorishly at the ceiling above, as he hung on a bit longer to this moment. This moment wherein Nick's mind and heart were so focused on him, that he failed to realize that the hotel room door was still open and people could see them.

After a short pause, Dean spoke up. "I'm the same way, Nick." His soft voice resounded even more in his chest as Nick listened to him from there. "I've been the same way since I met you back in that bar." Nick's light hiccups that followed his efforts to cease the waterworks brought a smile on Dean's face. He immediately placed his arms around Nick – holding the man to him. "Let's get off the floor."

Nick nodded slightly, before pushing himself up off Dean. As he stood, so did Dean. Once to his feet, Ambrose walked over to the door, and shut it. Through the fog inside his mind – the one contributing to the pupa stages of what was surely going to be one hell of a headache – Nick tried to recall how to panic. The door had been open, and there he was previously lying on the floor, clinging to, and crying on, and professing his love for a man. He tried to recall the panic that would normally follow this, but could do no such thing. The happiness he felt seeing Dean, and being allowed to stay proved far more potent than the whims of fear.

"Have a seat." Dean spoke as he did just that – perching himself comfortably on the edge of the bed.

Nick did as instructed, taking care to keep a little distance between himself and Dean. Rejection wasn't yet off the table, so Nick knew he needed this space if he was going to be able to stand. Following his new position, silence came into the small hotel room – hovering idly. Nick glanced to Dean, finding him staring off into an unseen distance. He positioned himself to speak, but discarded the words considering that this was not the time or place to interrogate. After all, this was all his fault, not Dean's.

"I missed you." Dean's rough voice grated against the innards of his throat. His eyes still sat focused on the wall ahead of him. Nick looked to him with a bit of shock embedded in his eyes. His face lit up to the words, but even more when Dean's gaze turned momentarily to him. "Don't cry."

The gentle command made Nick want to do just that, but when Dean looked away again the feeling went with his gaze.

"I missed you too." Nick spoke in a barely-there whisper. "I wanted to see you so badly, but…" He looked away in shame, "I didn't know anything about you. I didn't know your number, or where you even lived. And in all the time we've been together, it never even crossed my mind to ask." Another urge to cry came knocking at his tear ducts, but Nick forced it aside. "I'm sorry I pushed you away." His voice trembled as he spoke. "I-I was just so afraid of people finding out that I was gay that I never spared a single thought to how much I would hurt you."

His chin lifted as he glanced to Dean – finding the man now staring back with a transfixing gaze.

"You worry too much about what others think." Came out matter-of-factly. "Although," His eyes whisked back to the view of the wall, as he continued on in his rough voice, "when I was younger, I had three brothers. We weren't related by blood or anything, but" He trailed as his eyes looked slightly downwards, "they were the closest thing I had to a family." He idly swung his feet, "Seth, Roman, and AJ."

Sensing the opportunity to learn more about Dean, Nick continued to stare uninterruptedly at Dean in an effort to commit to memory everything the man said.

Dean continued on in unawares. "Seth, Roman, and I got an apartment together, and roomed together to save money. I didn't know I was gay then, but realized it after I slept with my first man. That kinda sealed the deal for me, you know." He looked to Nick, and coughed up a shy smile. The sight of Dean's dimples further painted Nick's face in a brighter shade of red. "I came out three years later. Seth took it badly. He disowned me and moved far away, and I haven't heard from him since." His eyes drifted back to the floor, "Roman had a girlfriend at the time, so he took my coming out with the idea that he was safe. I was happy for even that, at first, but the more I hung out with him, the more the distance between us stood out. It hurt that he didn't really understand, so I made the decision to end our relationship." A jagged breath exited Dean's nostrils as he continued to converse, unsure of how to truly stop. "Then, years later, I saw AJ at one of his matches, and we caught up. I lied and told him I had moved away from Seth and Roman due to wanting to pursue other things, and he bought it for the longest time. All that time though, I couldn't bring myself to tell him I was gay, because all I could think of was how much I didn't want to lose him like I lost Seth and Roman." Blue eyes skirted back to Nick with a touch of solemnity dusted in them. "I became pretty pitiful." He scoffed sadly, "But, I realized just as quickly that living that way was even worse than being hated. So, one day I just walked up to him, and told him all about the kind of man I was."

Unwilling to let Dean close the door to his past, Nick cautiously pried for further detail. "What happened after that?"

"He said 'okay' and kept on eating." Dean chortled a bit as the now comical memory played inside the far corners of his mind. Nick looked at him with eyes holding shock and some semblance of awe. "Point is," Dean spoke with a newfound seriousness. His hand now rested on the side of Nick's face, "I'm not mad at you, Nick." His cheeky smiled returned and Nick all but melted away to the sight of it. "I just wish you'd love yourself, and cherish yourself as much as I do." His smile thinned into a smirk, "You can feel free to do it more than I do, but I'm a pretty competitive guy, so you'll probably just be better off doing that as much as you possibly can."

It was Nick's turn to laugh. Dean joined in with a light-hearted chuckle, stopping only when his lips locked with Nick's. The kiss was slower than they were used to at this juncture, however the pace only deepened the passion behind it. And at the end of it, both men felt the comforting hands of closure embrace them.

"You're such a cry-baby." To the label, Nick chuckled nervously as he tried to contain his flowing tears. The act quickly proved fruitless, and only added more tears. Dean gave a short-lived laugh to the man's predicament, before pulling him into a tight embrace – whispering "I love you" and securing an undying place in the whole of Nick's heart.


	13. In Loving Memory Of Mitch

Nick never seriously troubled himself with things like ringtones. As far as he was concerned, his phone served merely as a means to an end. The object made calls, took calls, sent messages, and subsequently received them. Therefore, it never mattered at all what his phone sounded like when he got messages or calls, because two months ago, those calls and messages stirred up nothing save bitter emotions. Barely outside sixty days, and the memories of how much anger and disappointment he felt when his phone would sound off, and he would look at it with his hopes up high, only to be met with the usual "Busy with work" messages Mike churned out to him week in and week out. Overtime, having the phone became nothing but a sore reminder of what his 'relationship' with Mike truly was. And for every time he thought of getting rid of the thing, he would hesitate at the fear of being alone – selling himself on the belief that without Mike he would be essentially worthless to anyone else.

Simply remembering the way he was two months ago turned Nick's stomach in on itself, and so he distracted himself by looking at his phone once more. The message box lit up to a chirpy tune, and signaled to him that he had just received another message from Dean. Ringtones were still unnecessary in Nick's eyes, however with the amount of happiness he got by merely hearing Dean's voice – and no longer clinging to a smiley face in a text – made for a change of heart. Two days following his reconciliation with Dean, and Nick had thrown away his old phone. This in his hand was the phone Dean had picked out. The younger man had bought one just like it to replace the 90s disaster he carried around in his pocket, and had personalized Nick's ringtone to make a different sound whenever Dean contacted him. Nick smiled sweetly as he read Dean's message – thinking on how adorable Dean's affinity with the use of emoticons was.

"You're really pissing me off." A cold voice broke its way into Nick's fantasy – successfully bringing him back to the reality of the training center.

"Everything pisses you off Randy." Nick spoke dismissively, before placing his phone back into the pocket of his gym shorts. "Now move on to bicep curls. Thirty reps per arm for that comment."

Randy glared at Nick's sly grin, before deciding that the real cause for his distress wasn't with his trainer. "Why the hell are you here?" He inquired of the man lying on the bench next to Nick used for bench presses.

"I missed you too, Randy." Dean spoke nonchalantly as he stared at Randy with jaded blue eyes. "And, for your information, I'm here to see my boyfriend in action."

The title hit Nick like a bolt of lightning, and sent him blushing with no hope for repair. Dean smiled audaciously at the effect his words on Nick. All of this served to pop a blood vessel in Randy's skull, as irritation grated on every last one of his nerves.

"Stop flirting already! It's sickening." He growled. "And you've been here for three fucking days now!" Randy's glare darkened, "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Like a job?"

The gum in Dean's mouth popped loudly, further annoying Randy. "Nah." He smiled coyly, "I'd rather be here." He chomped loudly on his bubblegum, as a brazen grin spread across his lips. "Gotta keep the pests away, you know?"

The loud snapping sound of a final nerve shattering, denoted that Dean's comment had sat far from well with Randy. The now fully irate man retaliated instantly by springing up with hands coiled into poised fists. Dean met him halfway by pouncing into action – albeit his hands were coolly sitting in the pockets of his cargo pants.

"Alright you two." Nick spoke as he slipped in between both men. "I think we all need a break."

Randy glared at Dean – growing angrier when the man childishly stuck his tongue out at him. Nick braced the raging brunette with outstretched arms, bringing him to a successful halt once the realization that he was going nowhere fast hit him. To this observation, Randy angrily pulled away and decidedly headed in the direction of the cafeteria. On the way, however, he kept his icy stare on Dean – only to be met with more frustration when the man looked back with a devastatingly murderous glare, that forced him to turn his eyes away.

"At some point, you two have to get along." Nick spoke as he bent over to gather up the discarded free weights.

"I tried to give him Mitch, remember?" Dean replied with his eyes fixated on Nick's backside. "He smashed that plant to smithereens."

Nick laughed lightly at the recollection. "Giving someone Poison Ivy doesn't really constitute as a gift, Dean." He turned to face the man, "You give my folks Poison Ivy, and we'll get more than hate words thrown at us."

"Your folks?" Dean asked cautiously – unsure of what he had truly heard.

"Yeah." Nick replied with his eyes darting to the floor. A heavy blush overcame the color in his face, as he smiled shyly at Dean. "I figured I would be able to come out if you were with me."

Dean ran his widened eyes over Nick's face. What he found instantly forced him closer to Nick. The older man stood nervously concerned over Dean's silent stare, but before he could question it, Dean had quickly grabbed the sides of his face, and pulled him into a kiss. Still caught in the grasp of confusion, Nick's mind sealed itself away momentarily, before finally breaking through its shell, and indulging itself in the pleasure of Dean's lips.

No sooner had the kiss begun, did it end to the tune of a loud smacking sound. A space of silence centered around both men as Nick looked on longingly but still confused, and Dean stood gently holding his face with his smile brightening by the second.

"I love you, you know that?"

Nick nodded slowly, before breaking his trance long enough to sound coherent. "I love you too." His smile brightened, as he gently placed his hands on Dean's sides – gripping the fabric of his leather jacket beneath his fingertips. "We should get outta here while the coast is clear." His voice lowered, "I know a little place nearby where we can be alone."

Dean groaned sexily as he slipped his arms around Nick's waist, interlocking his fingers at the start of his lower back. "Randy's gonna be so pissed when he comes back and sees us missing." He leaned in closer – resting his forehead on Nick's, "Fuck it." Nick watched as mischief slipped into Dean's large smile, "Lead the way."


End file.
